Spotlight of You Can Leave Your Boots On by Irene Preston (Self-published November 10, 2015, 93 pages)
In the heart of Texas…
Liberal Austinite Travis Boyd recycles, shops local, and is partner in a successful green-building company. After his last disastrous relationship, he’ll never again date a man who’s not out. A little discretion while working for ultra-conservative clients in west Texas is hardly the same as being in the closet. Anyway, the only person he’s interested in being indiscreet with is the client’s macho son. Not happening, Trav.
Bo Vargas is a cowboy-boot-wearing, meat-eating, truck-driving ode to masculinity. He’s not gay. The men he picks up on business trips are just anonymous diversions. Travis isn’t anonymous. And there’s something about him that makes Bo want to expand his relationship options. Maybe.
When a popular dating app sends Bo and Travis on the same blind date, the night explodes in passion. One night isn’t a problem. But what will each man be willing to risk the morning after?
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One second, Travis was getting into his car, reminding himself why he was saying no to another date with Bo. The next, he was up against the Jeep with Bo’s tongue down his throat. In that second, instinct and chemistry took over. He wrapped his arms around Bo and kissed him back with everything he had. The great state of Texas narrowed down to the taste of steak and wine and Bo.
All those fantasies about Bo, and nothing had prepared him for the reality of that kiss. Travis tilted his head, allowing better access, and Bo obliged by firming his hold on Travis’s head and exploring every inch of Travis’s mouth with his tongue. Bo’s scent, a heady combination of cologne and raw male, fogged his brain until the touch and taste and smell of this one man was all that existed in the world.
Travis wasn’t sure how long the kiss lasted, only that he was rock hard and weak-kneed by the time Bo released his mouth to nuzzle and nip his way along his jaw to his ear.
Sanity didn’t return until Bo spoke. “Don’t leave, Trav.”
He must have made some sound of protest, because Bo crowded even closer, if that was possible. His tongue made a devastating assault on Travis’s ear that ended with a gentle scrape of teeth along his earlobe.
“Stay with me tonight, cariño.”
Bo accompanied the words with a slow roll of his hips that ground their pelvises together and scrambled every synapse in Travis’s brain. He continued to murmur against Travis’s neck, enticing and cajoling between licks and kisses. “It’s just one night.”
Bo’s hand moved farther down his hip, around his ass, pulling them tight together until they were grinding against each other in the parking lot.
“You see what we do to each other? I’m going to make you feel so fucking good. Come upstairs with me.”
He shouldn’t. He knew there were a million reasons he shouldn’t. He couldn’t think of any of them, couldn’t seem to push Bo away and get into the Jeep.
Instead he wrapped himself tighter around Bo. Let Bo press him hard against the fiberglass, hand under his ass, and take his mouth again.
Just one more kiss.
When Bo finally pulled back, eyes glittering and breathing hard, Travis simply stared up at him.
Bo nodded as if satisfied.
Travis didn’t protest when Bo took the keys from his hand. He didn’t protest when Bo spotted the overnight bag stashed behind the seat and swung the strap over his shoulder, or when Bo locked the Jeep and pocketed the keys.
He didn’t actually agree, either, a fact Bo finally seemed to notice. With a frown, Bo pulled Travis up against him again and kissed him hard on the lips. Then he slung his arm over Travis’s shoulders and headed back toward the lobby. He wasn’t forcing Travis to go with him, but not going would take some effort.
Just one night.
Why shouldn’t he? They were both consenting adults. Neither of them had other relationship commitments, and Bo got him more hot and bothered than anyone since . . . to be honest, he couldn’t think of anyone who had ever affected him quite like Bo. As for working together after—well, that damage was done. How much worse could it be after spending the night together than if he walked away at this point?
About Irene Preston
Irene Preston has to write romances, after all she is living one. As a starving college student, she met her dream man who whisked her away on a romantic honeymoon across Europe. Today they live in the beautiful hill country outside of Austin, Texas where Dream Man is still working hard to make sure she never has to take off her rose-colored glasses.
Where to find Irene